


Love Is Blind

by kate882, luckypen



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe-Serial Killer, Angst, Kindergarten teacher!Kuroko, M/M, cop!aomine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-22 08:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6072160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate882/pseuds/kate882, https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckypen/pseuds/luckypen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"All of his attention was on the scene before him: a dead man, lying in a pool of blood—probably from his slit throat—and a very visible message carved into his chest.</p><p>DAIKI."</p><p>Japan's most recent serial killer is clamoring for Detective Aomine Daiki's attention—one body at a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love Notes

The smell of metal and grime rose up, hitting him full-force, but he didn't even move to cover his nose and muffle the smell. All of his attention was on the scene before him: a dead man, lying in a pool of blood—probably from his slit throat—and a very visible message carved into his chest.

 _DAIKI_.

Well if the killer didn't have his attention before, they certainly did now. The guy had chalked up eight kills in three months, but this was the first body with a message. _What do you want with me?_ he thought, kneeling down to get a better look at the gashes. They were clean and precise—the carving had been done post-mortem and without hesitation. Meaning the message was all for them—well, him—and very important.

_I'm all ears, bastard._

“What the hell did you do to piss this guy off?” asked one of the forensics guys as he snapped pictures of the body.

“Wouldn't I like to know.” Aomine rested his face in one hand, thinking. _DAIKI_. The killer had used his first name. That meant that, one, he knew Aomine’s first name, and two, this was personal. He didn't pick the first police name off a roster. There was something about Aomine himself.

“Well, you should probably consider upping your own security if this guy has it out for you. Doesn’t your boyfriend live with you or something?”

“Already on it,” he answered, eyes on his phone screen as he searched his messages for “Bakagami” and typed in a quick “ _SOS. keep tetsu occupied and INSIDE. will explain later._ ”

* * *

“So, Daiki, why did you send Kagami-kun over?” Kuroko asked when Aomine got home. Kagami hadn’t said that was why he came over, but it wasn’t hard to guess, considering he wouldn’t actually provide a reason to be over and he’d left when Aomine came through the door.

Aomine sighed loudly, throwing his head back, eyes closed, and just stood there for a bit, leaning against the kitchen counter with a mug of coffee in his hand. “It’s the case, sorry. I know you don’t like me being overprotective, but there was a body with a name this time—my name. And I just—” he broke off, not sure how to put into words everything he was feeling. Anger, fear, panic, frustration, fatigue. This case was so much more important now that the killer had made it personal. “I’m sorry,” he finished lamely.

“Your name?” Kuroko walked over to him with a look of surprise and worry, seeming to instantly let go of his irritation with Aomine sending him a babysitter in favor of concern. “Why would your name be on a body?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” Aomine set down his mug on the counter and pressed both hands into his face, pressing hard on his forehead. “Why now? Why me? What the hell do you want?” he asked the floor, no longer registering Kuroko’s presence.

“Hey, hey, it’ll be fine. You’re good at your job,” Kuroko murmured, cupping Aomine’s face in his hands and making him look him in the eye.

Seeing Kuroko, Aomine’s gaze softened as he reached a hand up to brush hair behind Kuroko’s ear, moving his hand back and forth absently. “If he touches you—” His eyes hardened. Pulling Kuroko close, he touched their foreheads together and took a deep, steadying breath. “Yeah. I’m damn good at my job.” A corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile and he added, “I can’t wait to catch this bastard.”

Kuroko leaned up and pecked Aomine on the lips. “You’ll do it. And I’ll be fine. And you’ll be fine. I believe in you,” he said with a tiny smile.

“Mmmmm...” Aomine closed his eyes and just leaned in, smiling faintly. When he pulled back, his expression was much lighter as he teased, “So how was babysitting Eyebrows today?”

“We have a lot of leftovers in our fridge because he made me help him cook since we didn’t actually have plans today, and that’s apparently his go-to,” Kuroko answered.

Perking up, Aomine looked to the fridge and commented, “Good thing I called Eyebrows and not Satsuki, then.”

“If you’d call Momoi-san for something like that, then I’m assuming you teaching her how to shoot is going well.” Since she had started living on her own, Aomine had been teaching her self-defense in case someone ever tried to break in or stop her outside of her apartment.

Aomine recalled her latest request to move onto field practice. Satsuki’s training was going a little _too_ well. She was already damn good at hitting a moving target and Aomine wasn’t sure whether to be concerned or terrified over her suggestions of hunting. Lately, he’d leaned more toward terrified. Making a face of discomfort, Aomine said, “If she didn’t like you so much, I’d be afraid she’d start practicing on you.”

“Well that’s... disconcerting. It may be time to stop training her in that case,” Kuroko replied with a slight frown forming on his face. “Have you eaten yet? I’ll heat something up while you pick a movie if you want,” he offered.

Hugging Kuroko a bit tighter, Aomine buried his face in Kuroko’s hair and mumbled out a tired, “Mmm, not yet.” Closing his eyes once more, he asked, “Lemme stay like this for a bit though. Need to recharge.”

Kuroko smiled, and wrapped his arms around Aomine. “Okay. We can stay like this as long as you need.”

Breathing in and out slowly, thoughts of the crime scene flitted through Aomine’s mind. Actively regulating his breathing, he mentally chanted, _I’m home. With Tetsu. I’m home. He’s okay_. But his name carved in flesh still plagued his mind, and he squeezed Kuroko’s side involuntarily.

Kuroko leaned up and connected his lips with Aomine’s when he felt the squeeze to his side, hoping to distract him from the thoughts that were currently upsetting him.

Aomine opened his eyes in surprise, but relaxed into the kiss, settling both arms around Kuroko’s waist and tugging him closer. They were small, comforting pecks and Aomine drew back slightly to press kisses to the corner of Kuroko’s mouth, then cheek, then jawline, then ear where he murmured a quiet “I love you” before trailing his lips down Kuroko’s neck and resting his head softly on Kuroko’s shoulder.

“I love you too,” Kuroko said quietly, running his fingers through Aomine's hair.

Aomine smiled, face still pressed into Kuroko, before relaxing his body and breathing in, finally able to stop thinking. Taking one last calming breath, Aomine straightened up and pressed a kiss to Kuroko’s hair. “Mmkay. I'll go pick a movie.” Lingering a bit more, Aomine gave Kuroko one last kiss on his nose and ruffled his hair affectionately. “Thanks, Tetsu.”

“You know I don't like when you do that,” Kuroko complained, batting Aomine's hand away and trying to flatten his hair with a small pout.

Aomine laughed and brought up both hands to ruffle Kuroko’s hair into further disarray. At the fierce glare he received in response, Aomine leaned in for a whisper of a kiss and drew back grinning, “Call it stress relief?” he tried.

“No,” Kuroko said flatly, catching sight of himself in the glass of the window and only trying for a moment before giving up on fixing his hair.

“Sorry, babe,” Aomine apologized, but the smile on his face said he was anything but. “Will it help if you get to pick the movie?”

“Nope.” Kuroko went to the fridge to start picking out food.

Frowning, Aomine followed Kuroko to the fridge and wrapped his arms around his stomach, using his forehead to press down wayward locks into submission. “There. All better.”

Kuroko tried to stay irritated, but ended up laughing instead. “It’s not. I guarantee you that there are still bits sticking up.”

Scrunching his face, Aomine gave up trying to fix anything and pinched up two bits of hair into lopsided horns idly with one hand. “Who cares? You'd look beautiful bald,” he replied nonchalantly.

“I would _not.”_ Kuroko was laughing as he tried to argue though, so it wasn’t very effective.

Squinting his eyes in appraisal, Aomine shook his head firmly and leaned forward to catch Kuroko’s eye. “Nope. You'd be the most beautifullest beauty ever and that's that.”

“You like playing with my hair too much. You wouldn’t like me bald,” Kuroko told him, deciding on what he wanted to heat up, and looked at Aomine to prompt him to let go so that he could go to the microwave.

Aomine obliged, but followed Kuroko through the kitchen. “True,” he agreed, “but my point wasn't that you should go bald. It was that you shouldn't worry about me playing with your hair because you always look good no matter what.” He made sure to finish with, “I would like you best with hair though.”

“Weren’t you supposed to pick a movie?” Kuroko asked him as he put the food in the microwave, setting the time before turning to face Aomine, leaning against the counter.

“I was. But first I have to make sure Tetsu isn't mad at me,” Aomine said seriously. “...Are you?” His brows wrinkled a bit in concern.

“No. I just don’t like you messing with my hair, but you know that already.” Kuroko stood up on his tiptoes to ruffle Aomine’s hair.

Smiling with relief he pecked Kuroko with a small kiss on his nose. “Good. I can't deal with a mad boyfriend and this stupid killer.”

“I’m sure you’ll have that killer out of the way in no time. And if you behave, you won’t have to deal with a mad boyfriend either.”  

Aomine chuckled lightly. “I'm pretty sure an angry boyfriend is scarier.”

“Keep thinking that.” Kuroko smiled. “It works to my benefit.”


	2. Crazy In Love

The incessant screaming finally stopped as the blade sliced a clean line across the victim's throat. A gloved hand dipped into the wound and pulled back dripping blood. Its fingers dragged along the wall of the apartment, forming a D before dipping into the throat again to continue spelling _DAIKI_.

_It’s not enough._

The hand continued, adorning the walls in bloody letters— _DAIKIDAIKIDAIKI_ —until the whole room was painted red. Then it carved the name into the body on the floor before leaving, as quietly as it had come.

* * *

Aomine eyed the walls, thinking. His eyes narrowed, gaze flicking from wall to wall to body to wall.

_Why?_

Big, small, hurried, precise—nearly every type of handwriting variation was present, but only one word was written over and over.

_Why?_

His name was carved into the victim—another adult male just like all the other victims—but sloppily. No more clean cuts.

Aomine gritted his teeth. The bastard was smart. He wanted them to know that he could be anyone and everyone, that he could play with them. He wanted _Aomine_ to know.

_Why?_

Aomine pressed a hand into his forehead, hissing out a frustrated breath.

Takao let out a low whistle. “I think our killer may have a crush on you,” he commented, looking around himself.

“What a shame that I'm taken then,” Aomine shot back, too pissed for jokes. Smart criminals were cocky, and this asshole was a whole new level of arrogant Aomine had never encountered before.

“No no, I mean it. I think the killer likes you,” Takao said, making himself reply more seriously this time.

“Hah?” Aomine scrutinized the walls from a new angle. _Okay. New question: Why_ me _?_ “Alright, fine. He likes me. But what about me? Does he like the authority figure I represent or the athlete I was or what?” Turning to Takao, he stood up straight as though posing for a line-up. “Break me down.”

Takao looked him up and down. “Hmm. You’re definitely good looking, but so are plenty of other people on the force. A lot of people kill for sports stars, although that would mean he’s been killing for a while. You haven’t been known for sports since college.” He narrowed his eyes. “What’s different about you from other officers? You have the highest solve rate for cases on the force currently. He could want to meet you when you catch him.” Takao’s eyes lit up. “He’s making you chase him. It’s his own sick, twisted version of hard-to-get. He takes over your thoughts as you work tirelessly to get him.”

Aomine’s mouth twisted into a sour expression. The killer was definitely succeeding at that. The past few nights, he'd been caught ignoring Kuroko or staying up too late, consumed by the case.

“It matches our profile too. I've been with Tetsu for years. It's not a secret that I'm gay and the profile pins the bastard as an adult male around our age.”

Takao’s eyes widened. “Tet-chan! If this guy doesn’t get your attention, he might go after Tet-chan.” Takao started pacing in thought. “Make a press announcement. Talk to him. If he wants your attention, give it to him so that he doesn’t lash out.”

Aomine immediately rejected the idea. “Hell no! You want me to put on a pretty dress and dance for him too?” he spat.

“Do you want to go home and find Tetsuya looking like this?” Takao gestured to the body, face grim.

Biting back a retort, he took a look at the body and images of Kuroko, throat slashed and chest carved like a fucking turkey, flashed through his mind. “Two bodies with my name on them and now he gets a personal message?” Aomine asked, his voice an icy calm.

“Because he’s leaving your name, yeah. You know we’d do it if it was another officer. He might take a break from killing long enough for us to find something if he’s satisfied with you talking to him for a while,” Takao replied, just as calm.

“And what if my admirer decides to take it as invitation to come to my house?” Aomine pushed.

“You’re not congratulating him or anything. You’re telling him to stop. You’re not supposed to encourage it. I’m just hoping that the cease and desist order will have more of an effect if you’re the one giving it.”

Pulling Takao by the front of his shirt so their faces were barely an inch apart, he growled, “And I’m just hoping that you making me give this asshole what he wants won’t make him decide that I’m ready for a home visit and that my current lover is no longer needed.”

“Look at it objectively. If it said ‘Kazunari’, what would you have me do?” Takao asked calmly. “You’re a good cop. What do you think I should do if this guy is after my attention?”

Eyes still narrowed in anger, Aomine forced a stuttering breath through his nose and slowly released his grip on Takao’s shirt. Mentally replacing Kuroko’s face with the victim before him, Aomine forced his eyes to meet Takao’s. “Give him what he wants and wait for him to slip.”

“Then you know what you have to do as well.” Takao straightened out his shirt and took a step back. “In the meantime, there isn’t anything else we can do here. Go home. See your boyfriend. Remind yourself that he’s alive and well. And tomorrow, we’ll make a press statement.”

Counting his breaths, Aomine paused, then said, calm and sure, ”If Tetsu gets hurt, the blame is on you, Kazunari.” He left the building without waiting for a reply.

* * *

The door to their apartment slammed shut and Aomine strode through the living room, searching for Kuroko.

Kuroko had fallen asleep on the couch and blinked up sleepily at Aomine’s entrance. “Daiki? What’s wrong?” he asked around a yawn, sitting up.

Without speaking, Aomine hurried to the couch and cocooned Kuroko in his arms, burying his face in Kuroko’s neck. He shook from an intense combination of fear and anger and panic.

Kuroko was suddenly very awake and wrapped his arms around Aomine. “It's okay. It's okay,” he said quietly, holding Aomine tightly. “What happened?”

Too overcome by his emotions, Aomine just shook his head silently, vibrating with unshed tears. _God, this is such utter shit_. He wasn’t even sure himself what was wrong.

Kuroko didn't push him to talk. He simply placed a kiss to the top of Aomine's head and started rubbing soothing circles into Aomine's back with his thumbs.

“God, I hate him,” Aomine muttered into Kuroko’s skin.

“You hate a lot of people. Who do you hate today?” Kuroko asked.

“This killer. And Takao, that fucker. God, I just want to kill him sometimes.”

“I understand that,” Kuroko muttered. “But what did they do to make you so upset?”

The picture of Kuroko in that crime scene pressed behind Aomine's eyes and he squeezed Kuroko’s shoulders hard. “ _Dammit_ ,” he gritted out, but said louder, “Nothing,” hoping not to alarm Kuroko.

“It's clearly not nothing since you're hurting my shoulders over it,” Kuroko countered, shifting uncomfortably.

Eyes widening, Aomine quickly removed his hands from Kuroko's shoulders, and backed off as though he'd been struck. “Sorry, I'm just—” He didn't quite know how to end that sentence.

“Hey, it's fine. Really. Calm down,” Kuroko said, moving into Aomine's lap. “It's okay. I promise.”

Aomine resisted the overwhelming urge to crush Kuroko into his arms and just hold him there for protection. Instead he kept his arms resolutely by his sides, too scared of hurting Kuroko again, and tried, “I don't suppose you'd consider becoming a shut-in?”

Kuroko frowned at that. “No. That sounds like quitting my job and not seeing my friends. Why?”

Aomine huffed out an empty laugh. “No reason. A man can try.”

“Liar,” Kuroko accused, wrapping his arms around Aomine and resting his head on Aomine's shoulder.

“Who's the detective now?” Aomine said, reaching a tentative arm around Kuroko’s back.

“Don't have to be a detective to know when you're lying. You're bad at it,” Kuroko teased.

Pushing out his lip into a pout, Aomine complained, “Don't you start now. I'm already getting crap about cops from Takao.” He pressed a soft kiss into Kuroko’s hair and added, “I'm only bad at lying to you.”

“A bad liar is a bad liar regardless,” Kuroko answered. “So, why are you lying to me anyway?”

“I'm just stressed.” Aomine dismissed Kuroko’s questions with an airy wave. “How's school though? Anything unusual happen lately?” He did his best to keep his voice conversational.

Kuroko drew back a bit to eye him for a moment, but decided to go with the conversation anyway. “One of the students managed to sneak his kitten into school today. We didn't find out until someone had an allergic reaction.”

“Ah. That sucks… Anything else?” Aomine prodded. “Any _one_ unusual maybe?” He cocked his head, a picture of innocence.

Kuroko’s eyes narrowed. “Daiki, are you _interrogating_ me?” he asked slowly. “Really?”

Aomine’s face fell instantly. Biting his lip, he confessed, “Not ‘interrogating’ so much as asking? I just want to make sure you're safe.” His brows knitted together in concern.

Kuroko sighed. “No, I didn't notice anyone hanging around the school. I work with children. If I had seen that, I would have called the police,” he answered. “Why do you think _I'm_ in danger anyway?”

“Well, you aren't necessarily in danger. But I do love you. And Takao thinks this killer is in love with me. So if Mr. Serial Killer decides that you're in the way of my supposed love for him, _then_ you'll be in danger, and I'd rather we protect you sooner than later.” Aomine rushed through the explanation, pressing that last part the most. It was all completely reasonable and he was absolutely not being paranoid or overprotective. He just hoped Kuroko saw it that way too.


	3. Love Hurts

Kuroko blinked a few times, staying quiet for a few moments and biting his lower lip, as if trying to process this new information. “So… My competition for your attention is a serial killer? ...What exactly am I supposed to do to protect myself from _that?_ ”

Aomine let out a nervous breath. “Become a shut-in?” he suggested again.

“I already told you I'm not doing that. Besides, the news is all over this guy. These people were killed in their homes, right? I'm safer going to work than I am becoming a shut-in if that's the case.” He slumped against Aomine. “I knew other people would be interested when I started dating you. I just never imagined _this_ was the kind of competition I'd have.”

With a stilted smile, Aomine teased, “What competition? Have you been fighting groupies for me without telling me?”

“No. I usually just hold your hand or give you a quick kiss when people are staring and they get the idea.” He gave Aomine a teasing smile. “I certainly don't get drunk and start bar fights like I recall _someone_ doing a few years ago.”

“Yeah, gosh. I don't either…” His eyes shifted to the side as Aomine finished beneath his breath, “I remember winning a couple bar fights.”

“And I remember being banned from a bar,” Kuroko answered, but leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. “I won't become a shut-in, but if you're off tomorrow, I can miss one day to try and make you feel better,” he offered.

Aomine stiffened. “Er, I have work, sorry. But I can get off early. I just need the morning. Then we can do something.”

“Work stuff that you're not allowed to talk about or are you going to tell me why you got all tense?” Kuroko asked.

Keeping his eyes on the far wall, Aomine replied childishly, “Who’s tense? Not me. I have no idea what you're talking about, Tetsu.”

Kuroko rolled his eyes. “Work stuff you don't want to talk about then. Alright, if you won't tell me can we at least go to bed? I'm still tired even though I was trying to take a nap before you got here.”

Aomine grinned mischievously, tightening his hold on Kuroko and standing up abruptly, bringing Kuroko with him. “To the bed we go,” he laughed, pausing just long enough for Kuroko to wrap his legs around Aomine’s waist, before heading for their room.

Kuroko let out a startled sound when Aomine stood up, quickly adjusting his hold on him so that he wouldn't fall. “I could have walked,” he muttered.

Bending down low so Kuroko was almost horizontal to the floor, Aomine countered, “And I could drop you right now,” amusement coloring his voice. He loosened his grip almost imperceptibly and dipped even lower with a dramatic “Whoops!”

Kuroko's eyes widened and he wrapped his arms and legs tighter around Aomine. “No, no, stand back up!”

They stayed like that for a bit as Aomine looked up in thought. “I dunno, babe. I'm not sure I can get back up.”

“Liar!” Kuroko accused between laughs. “I'll kiss you if you stand back up,” he bargained.

Aomine’s eyes flicked down to meet Kuroko’s, the corner of his mouth rising into a smirk. “I'm gonna need an advance payment.”

“No way. I might slip,” Kuroko replied.

“I won't actually drop you,” Aomine assured, tightening his grip.

“I'll be more confident in that when you aren't holding me like this,” Kuroko informed him.

“Aww, babe,” Aomine pouted, “Trust me.” He leaned forward slightly, hoping for a kiss, but ended up still falling forward. “ _Shit—_ ” He crushed Kuroko even tighter and twisted as quickly as possible mid-air, so he ended up falling hard on his back, Kuroko still wrapped around him but lying on top of him. After catching his breath, he immediately looked down at Kuroko with concern, “Are you okay?!” he rushed out, bringing up one hand to caress Kuroko’s face, searching for any visible injury.

Kuroko took a moment to answer, untangling himself from Aomine and having to blink a few times to get over his surprise before he could even register if he was okay or not. “I'm fine. I don't think I should take your suggestion of trusting you though.” He looked at Aomine with concern. “What about you? You actually hit the ground.”

Aomine ignored the question, still examining Kuroko for any bodily injury. “Is your head okay? Your back? Do your hands hurt? They were under me.” He reached for said hands and carefully took them in his own, flipping them over and gently prodding with both thumbs.

“I'm fine. Really. You're worrying too much,” Kuroko said, leaning forward and pecking Aomine on the lips. “Now. Are _you_ okay?”

Shrugging, Aomine performed a slow, experimental twist and scrunched his brow slightly in pain. At Kuroko’s worried look, he held up a hand and lied, “I'm fine. I'm just old.” He sighed as though heartbroken. “I'll never be as fit as college me ever again.”

“College you wouldn't have dropped me,” Kuroko replied. “But college you also would have lied about being fine,” he added, giving Aomine a pointed look. “I can try to massage your back if that's what hurts,” he offered.

Aomine chuckled a bit, “Will I ever be able to lie around you?” he asked. Getting up and stretching—very gingerly—he said, “I'll be brand new in the morning.” Holding out a hand to help Kuroko up, he finished, “But a relaxation day tomorrow sounds really nice.”

“Probably not. So I suggest you just attempt being honest. I know, it’s an odd concept, but I’m sure you can manage,” Kuroko said, getting to his feet.

“I never lie about anything important,” Aomine defended. Pulling Kuroko close for a quick kiss, he added, “If I do, I always feel bad about it anyway and usually end up telling you.” He sighed dramatically. “It's hard dating a man who never keeps secrets. Where's the excitement?” he teased.

“In the bedroom, I’m pretty sure, but you hurt yourself so there will be no excitement tonight,” Kuroko answered, pecking Aomine on the cheek.

Aomine’s eyes lit up with mischief. “That’s excitement enough, I suppose. Maybe we should stay in tomorrow, so you can give me a demonstration.” He leaned down to press a kiss to the crook of Kuroko’s neck.

“You have a work thing that you won’t tell me about tomorrow, remember?” Kuroko said, tilting his head to give Aomine better access to his neck.

Thoughts of the press conference pushed into Aomine’s head, vying for his attention. _I have a work thing tomorrow that I'm doing for you._ Out loud, he promised, “I'll make it up to you tomorrow. I'm sorry.”

“I’m not upset. You have a job and you can’t say everything about it. I knew that when I started dating a criminal justice major.” Kuroko explained.

“Promise you’re not mad?” Aomine asked again, just in case.

“Promise,” he assured, kissing Aomine’s cheek. “Can we go to bed without injury now?”

“I dunno. I might hurt myself. Maybe you should give me a shoulder to lean on just in case,” Aomine suggested, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes to appear serious.

“You’re too heavy. You’ll knock me over,” Kuroko complained, taking a step away so that Aomine couldn’t lean on him.

Aomine hung his head in dismay, then tackled Kuroko, laughing, “Mm, too bad! Take me to bed. I’m tired, Tetsu,” Aomine whined, still laughing.

Kuroko stumbled a little under Aomine’s weight, trying to push the other off of him. “Nooo! Get off!” he protested.

“So… tired… ” Aomine mumbled, closing his eyes, lips pressed in an attempt to keep from smiling.

“Sleep on the floor then. I’m not going to try to carry you. I’m not in college anymore either, you know.”

Bringing his mouth next to Kuroko’s ear, Aomine whispered, “The sooner you carry me, the sooner we go to bed.” And just because he could, he leaned in even further to softly bite Kuroko’s ear.

“I’m dropping you if I carry you,” Kuroko said, refusing to be swayed by Aomine’s actions.

“Would you rather I carry you again?”

“No way. You dropped me. I’m going to bed with or without you on my own two feet,” Kuroko said firmly.

“Babeeee, pleaseeeee.” Squeezing Kuroko’s stomach in a hug, Aomine buried his face in his neck petulantly.

“Fine, but it’s your own fault if you get hurt.” Kuroko gave a resigned sigh, and lifted Aomine up. He could already feel his arms protesting, and he made it about halfway before they gave up entirely and he simply let go.

The feeling of lifting off the ground drew out a confused “Wha?!” from Aomine. His legs being swept out from under him had him clinging to Kuroko’s neck for dear life, and the feeling of the floor coming up to sucker punch him in the back… Well that hurt like a bitch.

“ _Fuck_.” Aomine lay on the floor in pain, still trying to process what had happened. “I wanted a _shoulder_ , babe.” When he tried to turn to get up, pain flashed through his body, making him wince. “Alright, _now_ my back is hurt,” he admitted, breathing through the pain.

“You told me to _carry_ you. So I did,” Kuroko argued with a shrug.

Trying once more to get off the floor, Aomine hissed at the sharp heat that flared in his back. “At this point, I’m willing to be fucking _dragged_ to the bedroom.”

“Be careful what you wish for. I might do it,” Kuroko warned, crouching down next to him. “Want to reconsider the back massage?”

“Honestly, I’m scared my back will break if we touch it,” Aomine groaned. “I’m all for get-well kisses though. Maybe you should kiss it to make it better,” he joked.

Kuroko rolled his eyes, but leaned down and kissed Aomine's lips. “You really aren't college you anymore. He fell down a flight of stairs partying drunk and still played a game the next day. You can't even get up now,” he teased.

Aomine perked up at the mention of alcohol. “Do you think I’d be able to get up if I were drunk?” he tried.

Kuroko just stared for a moment before getting up and turning with the full intention of walking away.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Aomine protested, grabbing Kuroko’s hand. “Just gimme a shoulder please? I really do need it now.”

“Can you even get up to use my shoulder?” Kuroko asked.

“...Any chance you’d want to sleep on the floor with me?"

“No, not particularly,” Kuroko answered.

“Okay. New question: any chance you love your boyfriend enough to keep him company when he’s in pain?”

“Dunno. Sounds a lot like sleeping on the floor,” Kuroko said consideringly.

Aomine reached out a hand, hooked it behind Kuroko’s neck, and pulled him in for a deep kiss. “It doesn’t _have_ to be sleeping.”

Kuroko blinked a few times, before closing his eyes and kissing back. “Sounds a lot like spending time on the floor.”

Aomine pulled back to shoot Kuroko a half-hearted glare. “You’re awful for a man’s ego, Tetsu,” he accused.

“Your ego is big enough,” Kuroko told him, but with a resigned sigh curled up on the floor with him.

Sidling up to Kuroko, Aomine reached an arm around him, grabbing one of Kuroko’s hands in his own. “...Y’know, I figured you’d ditch me and I’d fall asleep all sad and lonely,” he admitted.

“I fully intended to,” Kuroko told him, resting his head on Aomine’s chest.

“But couldn’t resist my overwhelming charm?”

“I felt pity in my cold, dead heart for you.”

“What heart?” Aomine muttered back.

“The one that somehow manages to hold love for you over love for milkshakes even though you make me lay on the floor with you,” Kuroko replied, eyes already drifting closed.

Aomine blinked down at Kuroko in surprise. Pressing a kiss to Kuroko’s hair, he settled down for sleep himself, pulling Kuroko closer for more warmth.

Just as he was drifting off to sleep, he complained in a quiet whisper, “I’m competing with a fucking dessert.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aomine is an overprotective boyfriend. He is also very stupid.


	4. Love Makes You Stupid

“We believe this man is intelligent, precise, and organized. He is sociable enough to blend in and non-threatening. He is not intimidating and he is not awkward. This killer will slit your throat before you even realize he was there. Do not go out alone.” Aomine gave the barest of pauses at the next sentence. _He wants your attention. Show him he has it._ “Ghosts thrive in the dark,” he finished before stepping back from the podium and off the stage.

He didn’t bother turning back, despite the roar of the press. The other officers could handle it. He’d said his piece. Now he just wanted to get home and see Kuroko.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he walked away from the noise. Unlocking it, he opened a message from Kuroko which read “ _So, my coworker told me to take a look at the news because my boyfriend was on it._ ”

_Well, shit._

“ _I was very worried because I didn't know why my boyfriend would be on the news, and he hadn't told me that he was going to be on the news, so I thought something might have happened to him,_ ”  Kuroko texted just a few seconds later.

Aomine stood there dumbly, his phone just sitting there in his hand.

… “ _I'm sorry._ ” he finally texted back.

“ _I'm glad that you're okay,”_ Kuroko texted back a few minutes later. _“I just got home.”_

“ _...do i hav to explain the press conference l8er_ ”

“ _I would more like to know why you didn't want to tell me about it.”_

“ _...am i in trouble?”_

_“That depends on why you didn't tell me.”_

_“i didnt want u to get mad or worried or anything like that”_

_“Why would I be mad?”_

_“idk. i was mad. u talking to a serial killer with a crush on u wud probably make me pretty angry…”_

_“You're not in trouble.”_

_“promise?”_

_“I promise.”_

Aomine exhaled a relieved breath.

As he thought out a response, a voice from behind surprised him.

“So you're not in the doghouse tonight, then?” Takao teased.

Pocketing his phone, Aomine turned to Takao with a look of annoyance. “What about the press conference?”

“The one you ditched?” Takao shot back.

With a scowl, Aomine countered, “I assumed my partner would be competent enough to answer questions for me. I guess I was wrong though.”

“I did start to, but Imayoshi dragged me off stage. Apparently he doesn't trust me,” Takao replied with a grin.

“Wonder why,” Aomine scoffed, turning away from Takao to get into his car.

“Right?! I'm great! The press loves me!” Takao agreed, leaning against Aomine's car with a grin.

Glaring pointedly at the part of his car currently being contaminated by Takao, he corrected, “The press loves you because you never shut up.”

“I thought they loved me ‘cause of that time they got to write about a police officer yelling at them to fuck off and closing the station door in their faces,” Takao said, laughing when he saw the glare.

Reaching out for the door handle, Aomine answered, “Then you'll love having your partner get in his car, yelling at you to fuck off and closing his car door in your face.” Facing Takao, he flashed the biggest, fakest smile he could. “ _Fuck off._ ”

“I don't get paid to write about that!” Takao protested, but got off the car before Aomine could decide to run him over. “Tell Tet-chan high for me!” he called with a cheerful wave.

Aomine revved the engine so he didn't have to hear anything else. Before exiting the lot, he sent one last text to Kuroko: “ _on my way home_ ”.

“Welcome home,” Kuroko called from the kitchen when he heard the door open. He was standing there wearing just one of Aomine's shirts and boxers as he made hot chocolate for both of them.

Aomine paused in the entryway, enjoying the view, then rushed into the kitchen to wrap his arms around Kuroko before stealing a soft kiss. Pulling back, he smiled, eyes dropping down to the hem of his shirt which was practically as long as Kuroko’s boxers, and laughed, “Hello, beautiful.”

Kuroko smiled up at him. “Hello, Daiki,” he replied, leaning up to peck him on the lips.

Bending down to mouth at Kuroko’s jawline, Aomine mumbled, “Damn, you smell better than the chocolate.”

“That's because I took a shower a few minutes ago,” Kuroko said with a laugh. “But the chocolate’s going to burn if you keep distracting me,” he added, pushing Aomine's face away.

Perching his chin on the top of Kuroko’s head, Aomine teased, “I'm distracting, huh?” as he rubbed small circles into Kuroko’s waist with one hand.

“Yes,” Kuroko answered simply, filling two cups for them and stepping out from under Aomine's chin to offer the second.

Aomine ran a hand down Kuroko’s—well, his—shirt, eyes following the slow trail. “So I take it from this very nice outfit, that we’re staying in today?”

“That was the plan, but if you have somewhere you wanted to go, I can put more on.” Kuroko answered, placing Aomine's mug back on the counter when he didn't take it.

Leaning in for another kiss, Aomine laughed, “I’m good with anything.”

Kuroko took a sip of his hot chocolate, causing a chocolate mustache to form on his upper lip. “I was thinking we could stay in today.”

Aomine eyed the chocolate trace and pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh.

Kuroko sighed when he saw the look on Aomine's face. “Alright, what's funny? I got something on my face, didn't I?”

Chuckling lightly, Aomine pressed his lips to Kuroko’s, kissing away the chocolate moustache. Licking his own lips, he grinned. “It's okay. I got it.”

Kuroko rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile on his face as he wrapped his arms around Aomine to rest his head on Aomine's chest.

Circling one arm around Kuroko’s back and reaching for his own mug of chocolate, Aomine asked playfully, “If I spill this on you, will I have to sleep on the floor again?”

“If you spill that on me, you will be sleeping at Takao-kun’s apartment,” Kuroko answered immediately.

The corners of his lips pulled into a wicked smile as Aomine lowered his mouth to Kuroko’s shoulder and licked a deliberately slow path across the exposed bit of his collarbone. “And if I promise to clean you up?” he whispered, eyes dark with desire.

Kuroko didn't even realize his eyes had closed until he was opening them again to answer Aomine. “Bed. Now.” He put down his cup and took Aomine's to do the same before walking towards the bedroom.

“Bossy,” Aomine teased but willingly allowed himself to be led from the kitchen. Body practically moving on its own, Aomine eagerly followed his boyfriend’s lead, impatiently pulling Kuroko into himself for a deep kiss once they reached their room, and picking him up to carry him the last few steps to bed.

Kuroko laughed when he was lifted off the ground, but allowed it since it was a short trip and he was quickly distracted.

* * *

The press conference seemed to have done the job of making the killer stop for a while. It was about a month and a half before there was another killing, but this one…

“Aomine, you're gonna wanna see this. Your killer is back, and he took down two officers.” Takao said when Aomine answered the phone.

Aomine didn't even bother covering his speaker before muttering a low, vicious curse. “I told you the department was taking its sweet ass with this case,” he spat bitterly. “Now I'll have to deal with hotheaded cops who won't be able to keep their trigger fingers steady.” Despite the calm in his voice, Aomine’s own temper was burning dangerously hot. His own fingers were still, but he couldn't deny that a small part of himself also itched to put a bullet or two in the bastard who dared to harm someone on the force.

“We'd have to _see_ the guy to shoot him. I'll text you the address. He's still into you, by the way. Wrote your name in blood again, and dumped the hearts of the cops under it.”

Hissing out one last curse, Aomine snapped his phone closed and rushed out to his car, disposing of the remains of his lunch. He didn’t think he’d be able to stomach any food later.

Takao held the door open for Aomine when he reached the crime scene. “Time of death would be late afternoon yesterday. They were found by a friend on the force who was worried when they didn't come into work or answer their phones.”

“Same M.O. as all the others?”

Takao nodded his assent and Aomine turned his attention to the bodies—and hearts.

“Whatever happened to flowers and chocolates, huh?” a forensics tech cut in.

Aomine eyes narrowed to daggers as he shot back icily, “Whatever happened to respect for the dead?”

The tech’s head lowered shamefully and his mouth snapped shut.

 _Good_. Officer deaths always resonated much more deeply with members of the force. Only a rookie would dare poke the bear when one of their own has been hurt.

“Chief wants you off the case. Thinks you should be under police supervision too,” Takao greeted Aomine. “I've been arguing for you to stay on.”

Aomine closed his eyes against the rise of anger. “...Do I wanna know how that argument’s going?” he asked with a thin veneer of calm.

“Pretty well, actually. I just had to put the image of you trying to handle it on your own into his head and he hasn't texted me back in the past two hours since.”

“Gee, thanks,” Aomine responded, voice thick with sarcasm.

“You're very welcome,” Takao said. “Now, any ideas based on the scene?” he asked, returning his attention to that.

Aomine swept his gaze over the walls of the tidy apartment, pausing on several hiding places he suspected were possible choices for a gun safe, and coming back to the relatively cleanly killed officers’ bodies.

“I didn't know either of them personally but I'm assuming they're good cops unless you tell me otherwise—” Aomine waited a breath but continued when Takao made no attempt to correct that assumption, “—so either they made rookie mistakes or my not-so-secret admirer is a fucking ghost.”

“I wouldn't be surprised about that second one. Blood on the walls and leaving no trace all sounds very horror movie to me,” Takao said. “But these guys aren't rookies. They've been on the force for a while, so your ghost theory is sounding more and more realistic by the minute.”

No defensive marks, no gunshot residue on their hands, and their weapons were still on them. _They couldn't even draw their weapons…_ “ _Any_ luck with security cams?” Aomine asked, resigned. If this was like the others, they'd be shit out of luck on all fronts. The fucker just appeared, slit your throat, did whatever the hell love thing suited his fancy, then _poof!_ gone.

“Nothing as of yet, but the tech guys are still going over them to make sure no one missed anything,” Takao told him, not sounding very hopeful of those results. “Any chance I can convince you to stay out of your apartment until this is done since he's upgraded to cops now?”

“Any chance you can convince Tetsu to go along with it?” Aomine countered.

“He'd listen to you before me,” Takao said with a shrug. “I think he'd do what he thought was best for your safety though. It might be better for both of you to stay somewhere else though.”

Lips caught in something between a grimace and a smile, Aomine huffed, “Tetsu’ll kill me long before my admirer does.”

Takao laughed in agreement. “I'll come to your funeral.


	5. Love is Blind

“ _Tetsu!_ ” It was a half wheeze, half-shout thrown from Aomine’s lips as he crashed through the door of their apartment and ran to Kuroko who looked up from his reading on the couch at the sound of his name.

 _Oh thank god_. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Aomine spoke more slowly this time, “Tetsu, you have to leave the country.”

“I'm sorry. I think I must have heard wrong, because that sounded more ridiculous than most of the things you say.”

Aomine harrumphed in indignation but soldiered on gamely, “You. Japan. No.” Aomine spoke as slowly as possible and moved his hands to indicate one space then another with a final flourish of his arms crossed in time with his “No.” Before Kuroko could speak—because he looked incredibly close to committing Aomine to an asylum and really, that was just the opposite of a good idea because Aomine was clearly the sane one and really, if anyone should be going somewhere, it should be Kuroko… preferably somewhere out of the country. “Japan is so boring. I mean, I’m here of course, but other than that, it’s just Japan. And Japan is… y’know! And you’ve lived here all your life, so don’t you think it’s time for a change of scenery? Maybe China or Korea or—AMERICA! Eyebrows came from America—er, Kagami—and he came out with half a brain—well more like a quarter or an inch or a gram or something real small, but it’s something y’know? And you’re real smart, so you’d be fine and there’s a whole ocean between America and Japan and— _Tetsu, whatthefuck!_ ”

Kuroko was pretty sure that actually trying to speak wouldn't work to get Aomine to stop, so, after marking his page, he threw the book at Aomine’s face. “Please, in detail, explain to me why I'm leaving Japan, and why it sounds like you're not coming.”

“Why would I come with you? You always say you need a vacation from me. I’m letting you take one! In fact, I’ll help pay for it! You can go on a tour of all the milkshake shops in America!... Do Americans drink milkshakes??? Hell, you can invent it for them!” Aomine grinned a big fake smile and prayed that Kuroko has damaged his head reading or something.

Kuroko didn’t even deem that worth a reply. He got up and went to the kitchen to get coffee, thinking that maybe this was all some delusion that could be fixed with caffeine.

Aomine watched Kuroko but stayed where he was, all his energy spent on his very convincing argument. “So, yes vacation?”

“No,” Kuroko called over his shoulder. When he had coffee, he walked back in with a serious frown on his face. “Is this some weird way of saying that you want to break up?”

“ _NO!_ ” Not even making it to the couch two steps away, Aomine sank to the floor in exhaustion and buried his face in his hands. “Takao’s gone.”

“Gone where?” Kuroko asked with a tilt of his head.

“ _GONE._ _Poof_ , gone!... Please take a vacation.” The last part came out a strangled plea, just barely audible.

Kuroko knelt down in front of Aomine, moving his hands off of his face to make eye contact. “Please explain this more to me.”

Something flared in Aomine and he moved his head up to meet Kuroko’s gaze, speaking clearly this time. “He took him.”

“That killer you’ve been looking for?” Kuroko’s brows furrowed. “Does he usually kidnap people? I haven’t seen that in the news.”

Aomine closed his eyes against the look of Takao’s apartment he’d gotten earlier. “There was no body.” He cleared his throat, pushing away all unnecessary feelings of panic and the overwhelming worry that had driven him earlier. “There was blood—but no body. He always gives me the bodies. He takes something out of them or cuts them up, but they’re there. He _has_ Takao. I know it.”

“If there was no body then how do you know it was him? That doesn’t sound like the guy you’ve been after.”

Rage surged through Aomine and he crushed Kuroko’s hands in his own. “It’s _him_.”

Kuroko winced slightly at the grip. “ _Why_ is it him though?”

“I just know it.” Aomine paused, breathing in a stuttering rhythm punctuated with harsh laughter. “He’s a ghost. But Takao has those weird eyes of his. If anyone could see this bastard, it’d be that guy. The other guys say it’s not him ‘cuz there’s blood and the ghost is clean—But I know it’s him. Ghosts mean nothing to Kazunari.”

Kuroko frowned. He might have tried to reach out and touch Aomine as some form of comfort, but his hands were still being crushed, so he couldn’t do that. “I’m not leaving the country, Daiki. I’m sure Takao-kun will be okay. He’s gotten into pretty bad situations over the years, and always manages to come back with a crazy story to tell.”

Aomine’s voice softened just the slightest fraction. “Will you be though?” He removed one hand to lightly run it through Kuroko’s hair. “You’re not a cop and I want—I _need_ you safe. Why can’t you just let me protect you for once?”

“Because your form of protection involves me leaving the country,” Kuroko answered, leaning into the touch. “Your killer probably wouldn’t even notice me, honestly.”

Aomine pursed his lips in thought. “You’re gonna out-ghost this guy, huh?”

“I can certainly try if anyone comes in here. I don't have any interest in leaving the country after all. At least not without you and a bit more planning.”

Aomine had finally calmed down enough to move next to Kuroko, leaning his back against the front of the couch with his legs stretched in front of him. “You aren't gonna take a break from work either, are you?” he asked resignedly, head back and eyes aimlessly trained on the ceiling.

“Are you?” Kuroko countered, arching an eyebrow.

Aomine's gaze slid to Kuroko then back to the ceiling as his mouth twitched into a wry smile. “Can't blame a man for trying.”

“No one would be upset if you did take a break, you know,” Kuroko said quietly.

Kuroko had Aomine’s full attention now. Mulling that over, Aomine saw the opportunity to get Kuroko away from it all… _but—_

“...I can’t run away.” Even if it was selfish, Aomine knew this guy was steadily approaching a showdown and he had no intention of missing it or backing down. Mr. Ghost wanted personal, and he’d get it.

“Then neither can I. I can hardly run off to America knowing that you're in danger. Would you be able to if our roles were reversed?”

“...Y’know, I’d really love it if I could win an argument one day.”

“Maybe someday, but not today.” Kuroko offered a tiny smile.

“Can you at least have Kagami come over today?”

“Kagami-kun has a job as well,” Kuroko reminded him.

“Set our toaster on fire then. He can come here _and_ get paid.” Aomine looked over at the toaster and paused, considering. “Actually, set the trash can on fire. I might want toast for breakfast tomorrow.”

Kuroko leveled Aomine with a look that let him know just what he thought of that plan. “No.”

Aomine threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “It’s not like he does anything anyway!... What if we throw a cat on top of the cabinets???” he tried.

Kuroko actually rolled his eyes at that. “Daiki. I'll be fine.”

“Promise you'll call me and text me to let me know you're okay?”

“How often?”

Getting up, Aomine pressed a kiss to the crown of Kuroko's head and headed for the door. “Every chance you get.”

* * *

“I’m sorry I’m late. I promise to make up for lost time.”

Stepping closer to the chair, the killer’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile.

“You must have been lonely.” He shook his head in silent laughter then smiled.

Leaning in even closer, the man continued, “Those hawk eyes of yours must be crying out. All by yourself for hours yet not a single person comes by.” he withdrew a slender knife from the folds of his clothes and held it up as though presenting a prize “Except for me.”

Takao’s eyes widened just the smallest fraction as he moved his mouth beneath the tape, desperately trying to form the words.

“I’m sure you have lots of questions, Takao-kun. But I’m afraid you'll just have to die without the answers.”

He chuckled quietly, cocking his head in appraisal. “You look so serious, Takao-kun.” The knife crept closer to Takao’s neck.

“Let’s have some fun.”

No gag on earth could contain the sounds of screaming.


	6. Til Death Do Us Part

“You’ve got the day off today, Aomine.” Imayoshi greeted when Aomine picked up the phone. “I’d recommend taking a few weeks off, actually.”

“Who’s my replacement?”

“We’ll pick someone, but we just found your partner strung up in the station, and I’m not making you work after that. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this. It does appear to have been done by your killer though.”

“...You’re not taking me off this case.”

“Aomine, you’re too personally involved in it.”

“And you’re insane. If Takao’s gone, there’s not a better man on the force than me. I’m staying on the goddamn case.”

“There isn’t a worse man for this case. The killer just went after your partner. It’s only a matter of time before he decides he wants you, and if you’re out there looking for him, you’re essentially giving yourself too him,” Imayoshi retorted.

“Daiki?” Kuroko mumbled sleepily from his spot in the bed next to Aomine, woken up by the sound of his conversation.

Placing a hand over the speaker on his phone, Aomine whispered hurriedly, “Sorry, work. I’m almost done.”

Imayoshi picked up on who he was talking too quickly. “If your own safety won’t convince you to leave the case, you should think about that boyfriend of yours. Do you want him to end up like Takao? We found him strung up with pieces missing in the station. As of now, consider yourself suspended.”

Aomine’s grip on his phone tightened so much, he could feel the metal cutting into his bones. “I _am_ thinking about him. I’m thinking about everyone. And the fact is you _need me_. I’m staying. on. the damn. _case_.” He hung up without letting Imayoshi respond.

“What’s going on?” Kuroko asked, looking far more awake now, and wrapped his arms around Aomine’s waist.

“Nothing, sorry.” Settling into the bed more comfortably, Aomine let out a shuddering breath of frustration. Pulling Kuroko in even closer, he promised, “I’ll tell you in the morning. I need sleep.”

Kuroko frowned up at Aomine. “Are you sure? You look upset.” He reached up to gently caress Aomine’s cheek.

Forcing a smile, he placed a hand over Kuroko’s and repeated, “Yeah. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Promise.”

“If you’re sure.” He watched him for a moment longer before cuddling up to Aomine, resting his head on Aomine’s chest to go back to sleep.

Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t be able to sleep after hearing that. However, he had hardly been sleeping for the past few weeks because of this case, and he found himself nodding off to the image of his partner dead. That was the same image that jolted him awake screaming.

“Daiki? Daiki! Daiki, what’s wrong?”

Takao’s features slowly melted into Kuroko’s pale ones and Aomine clenched his eyes, willing away the scent of blood and guts that still haunted his senses. “Tet—Tetsu…” his voice broke off in silent sobs as he hunched over, fully experiencing the pain of losing his partner and friend.

Kuroko’s eyes widened slightly before he pulled Aomine into an embrace and started running his fingers through his hair to try and calm him down.

The taste of blood alerted Aomine to the fact that he was biting his lips against more screams. Taking deep, shuddering breaths that rocked his chest against Kuroko’s in violent spasms, Aomine whispered slowly, “Takao’s gone.”

“We knew he was missing,” Kuroko said slowly, brows furrowing slightly.

“No. He's _gone_. The killer got him.”

“He died? Oh, Daiki, I’m sorry.” Kuroko held him a bit tighter.

“I have to get this guy. If it's the last thing I do.”

“Don’t say that,” Kuroko said firmly, gripping Aomine’s chin to make him look at him. “Do not say the last thing you do. You are not dying for this case, because I am not losing you.”

Aomine’s lips twisted into a half-smile, half-grimace. “Don't worry. If anyone's dying, it'll be him.”

“Promise me that you won’t put yourself into more danger than absolutely necessary,” Kuroko insisted.

“...I promise.” But Aomine knew that anything was necessary—even losing his own life in the process.

“I’m serious. I can’t lose you. It’s already bad enough that every time you go to work I worry that you won’t come back. I don’t know what I’ll do if you actually don’t.”

Aomine smiled as the tension in his body released a bit as it always did when he was with Kuroko. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Be careful and don't be stupid right?” He ruffled Kuroko’s hair lightly before settling back down to sleep. “...I might wake up again.”

“That’s fine. I’m surprised you can sleep. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” Aomine lied.

“Daiki.” Kuroko said with a reprimanding tone for the lie.

Aomine feigned sleep at that, pulling Kuroko closer and burying his face in his hair with his eyes shut tightly.

“Daiki.” Kuroko repeated, trying to get out of his arms.

“Shhhhh. I'm sleeping,” he whispered with his eyes still closed. He tightened his grip a bit and added, “Don't move… please.”

Kuroko sighed, but made himself relax in Aomine’s arms. “I’ll stay up with you if you want,” he offered.

The loudest, fakest snore was Kuroko’s answer.

Kuroko rolled his eyes. “If you’re doing that I will leave. I didn’t move in with a snorer.”

Aomine smiled slightly, but didn’t make a sound, actually trying to relax for sleep this time. His arms loosened so he could move one arm up a bit for Kuroko to rest on comfortable, while the other looped over Kuroko’s waist casually, searching for Kuroko’s hand beneath the blankets.

Kuroko reluctantly smiled and linked their hands. “I love you,” he whispered.

“...Love you too...but I’m still sleeping…”

“You’re not. When you talk in your sleep it doesn’t sound like that.”

Aomine opened his eyes in surprise, but realized he was being baited. “sleeeeeeeee...piiiiiing…” he droned in a low whisper.

“Close, but no. You don’t sound like that either.”

Silence this time.

Kuroko turned in Aomine’s arms. “You usually say my name,” he whispered when they were facing each other.

Aomine couldn’t keep the smile off his face from that. With his eyes still closed, he answered back, “Probably ‘cuz I’m always dreaming about you—can’t get you out of my head.”

Kuroko smiled and leaned forward to peck Aomine on the lips. “Good.”


	7. What Is Love?

Aomine made the conscious effort _not_ to break the steering wheel of his car as he rehearsed his words one more time.

Since he’d been kicked off the case, he’d spent his day with Kuroko, but said he had an errand to run after dinner, grabbing his keys and rushing out the door despite the late hour—to reclaim his spot on the case.

He’d even dashed together some semblance of a speech in his mind. It almost sounded professional and convincing. With a bit of swearing. And maybe a couple colorful nicknames… Aomine also considered whether his mental volume might be a little… _different_ than when he’d actually be speaking.

He was still rehashing his _very_ convincing argument when he found himself already in Imayoshi’s neighborhood. Several deep breaths and a quick prayer later, he was at the door, ready to fight for his re-assignment. He rapped his knuckles against the door three times before listening for footsteps. Silence. He knocked twice more, louder this time...

 _Whoosh_.

That was decidedly _not_ a footstep. Following the sound, Aomine made his way around the house to a back window. Aomine quickly pulled his phone from his pocket, turned on the flashlight and spotted a slight impression in the ground. Moving even faster now, he eyed the window sill and reached out to find it unlocked—

He nearly dropped the window pane as the distinct smell of blood hit him. Drawing his gun with his free hand, he slipped inside and crept through the house following the scent of death. _You better not have died before bringing me back on this goddamn case._

He found Imayoshi, on the floor of his living room with his insides no longer, well, inside.

With a full view of the room, Aomine now understood how the smell of blood had carried all the way to the window he’d come in through. In addition to the large pool of blood still slowly spreading from the chief’s body, his organs had been strewn—no, _placed_ meticulously along the floor spelling out a very familiar message. _DAIKI_. Aomine was running before he’d even fully processed the sight before him. No need to check for a pulse. He wasn’t stupid.

The sharp crack of the front door banging open echoed into the night, following Aomine as he raced out into the street, scanning the sidewalk for shadows in the dim light of the street lamps. The barest hint of motion flagged his peripheral vision and he was racing down the street like a bullet.

He waited before turning the corner to shout, “Stop! Police!” and running even faster, knowing the effect his words would have. Inwardly cursing, he dodged buildings and debris on pure reflex, fully focused on any movement before him. In the dark of night, it was as if he chased a shadow.

Said shadow wasn't particularly fast, but it was good at disappearing for several seconds at a time and throwing him off long enough to pull ahead. That should have been his first clue.

His second was when the shadow darted across the street—right beside one of the few cars on the residential street—and diverting Aomine’s attention for a moment before he could actually get across the street as well.

Relying on some fancy footwork, reminiscent of his basketball days, Aomine shot across the street dodging vehicles and pushed himself even harder, cursing the slight pain of his rapid breathing.

Traffic dwindled as they turned onto even more secluded streets and Aomine smiled predatorily— _I’ve got you now, bastard_ —until a flash of metal whipped out of the perp’s pocket and Aomine darted to the side of the street, using the darker shadows for cover.

* * *

He didn't like guns.

There was a reason he killed with a knife. Guns were loud and impersonal and not nearly as fun, but they were useful for making people keep their distance. Which was exactly what he needed Aomine to do.

He didn't plan to hurt Aomine, but Aomine didn't need to know that as he pulled out his gun and shot in Aomine’s direction three times, each one missing, but just barely.

That would hopefully buy him some time to escape.

* * *

Swearing out loud this time, adrenaline spiked in Aomine’s veins as he pulled his own gun from its holster, never missing a beat as bullets pelted the pavement mere inches from his feet.

_I won't miss, asshole._

Decreasing his speed just enough for him to register his surroundings with more than bare instinct, Aomine lined up his gun and fired his own shot as the shadow before him raised its arm again.

The figure crumpled to the ground like a marionette cut from its strings, the gun clattering to the ground a short distance away. _Gotcha_.

With the perp down, Aomine slowed to a walk to close the distance. Bending a bit to inspect the fallen form, Aomine pressed a hand against his chest, catching his breath—then stopped breathing altogether.

“ _Tetsu._ ” It was a barely audible whisper that Aomine didn't even realize he’d uttered aloud.

Only the scent of blood kept Aomine from simply standing there, frozen as he attempted to process what was absolutely impossible. Kneeling on the sidewalk, he felt for the wound in the dark, groping blindly for the source of the blood.

“God, _Tetsu, why?!”_ His voice broke as he crouched low over his boyfriend, finally getting a look at the face of the man he’d run like hell chasing after. A trail of blood leaked from Kuroko’s mouth and Aomine’s had trouble breathing for a whole new reason.

For the first time in his life, Aomine wished he weren't so good at his job.

Splinters of conversation and memories of the past weeks played in the back of his mind as he rushed home to hold Kuroko—fearing for _his_ life—Kuroko’s support as he vowed over and over to nail their killer, the bodies of the victims, of his coworkers, of— _oh god_

“Ta—” the word died in his throat, choked by fear and apprehension, but he forced it out past the panic. “Takao—Kazunari. God, Tetsu, you killed _Kazunari._ _Imayoshi_.” His voice was breathless and disbelieving. “They were our _friends_.”

Kuroko looked like he was going to say something, but ended up coughing up blood instead, tears of pain forming in his eyes. All he managed to get out was a quiet “Daiki,” amidst the coughing.

Holding back his own tears, Aomine clutched Kuroko to his chest tightly, desperately ignoring the inevitable. “I don’t—God, Tetsu,” he repeated. Burying his face in Kuroko’s neck, he mumbled “Tetsu” over and over in broken whispers before finally ending with one last strangled “ _Why?_ ”

The small smile on Kuroko’s lips as the light faded from his eyes was Aomine’s only reply.

* * *

Aomine’s ass was numb from the hard metal of the seat, but he didn't quite care enough to shift into a more comfortable position. He didn't quite care enough for anything really.

“You were dating Kuroko-san, correct?” The officer on the other side of the investigation table asked.

Aomine gave a distant nod, irking the examiner. “Please speak for the record.”

“Yeah. I dated Tet—Kuroko-san.”

“He was living with you? And you're claiming that you had no idea he was behind the recent string of murders?”

“Yes, he was living with me. No, I…” Aomine paused, breathing through the rush of memories that flooded through him—again—and pushing them aside for...later. He'd already spent too many hours rethinking every moment of every day the past few weeks. “I had no idea he was behind the murders.”

“But you’ve got the best record for spotting criminals before anyone else.” The officer looked up from their notes to give Aomine a questioning look.

 _I spotted Tetsu first too._ For the first time, rage broke through Aomine’s grief and confusion. Raising himself up, he looked the man in the eye and spat out, “I lived with the man for years. He had a steady job as a kindergarten teacher, no problems with empathy or social interaction. In both groups and alone, he was supportive and responsive—no moodiness or narcissism. He loved me. In the full sense of the word, no matter what other thoughts or feelings he might have felt on top of that, he _loved_ me—regular, normal, sane human being love. He was—he was normal. Kinda bland even.” Aomine laughed bitterly. “Has been since high school.”

Coming back to the earlier question, Aomine’s gaze turned to steel as he continued, “I have a good record because I'm a good cop. I went to the chief’s house, heard the window, and bolted the moment I saw the scene, knowing I had a better chance of nabbing the… killer than of saving a mutilated corpse. _I_ spotted the perp at the end of the street, _I_ chased Testu for blocks in the dark, _I—_ ” Aomine sagged back into his seat, his anger fading “I shot my fucking boyfriend. I held him as he bled to death from a bullet _I_ put in him.” His face twisted with rage and despair and a whole lot of other things he didn’t even want to think about. “I killed the love of my fucking life,” he spat “So, _no_ , I. Didn't. Know _. Anything._ ”

The other officer sighed. “Alright. Thank you for your help.” They gave Aomine a pat on the shoulder and exited the room.

Aomine tensed at the contact, but let it go. This wasn't the first cop who’d been unnaturally kinder to Aomine. After the door had closed, Aomine lingered, shifting his gaze from the bare walls to the cold steel table to his white-knuckled hands that had somehow clenched into fists without his knowing. Making the conscious effort to relax his hands, _“Why?”_ echoed through his mind, a steady beat above the white noise of the last few days playing over and over… and over.

Alone in the room, Aomine whispered to no one, "I still don't know anything."


End file.
